


Proposal

by Lovedmoviesb



Series: The Famous Rick Grimes [6]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Richonne - Freeform, baseball AU, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:15:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24024949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovedmoviesb/pseuds/Lovedmoviesb
Summary: Rick tries to get Michonne alone to ask an important question
Relationships: Rick Grimes/Michonne
Series: The Famous Rick Grimes [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1502060
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	Proposal

“Oh my God, Rick Grimes!”

The shrill shout rang in Michonne’s ears. Rick’s hand tightened around hers, even as his face fell into something like a wince. 

“Michonne, baby, sorry--” he mumbled. 

“It’s fine,” Michonne squeezed back, chancing a look over her shoulder. A gaggle of students stood across the street, bouncing on the balls of their feet. They looked eagerly at the crosswalk light, clearly rearing to dart the few yards between them and their target. 

“We could run,” Rick suggested, looking like he might break into a flat sprint. 

“I’m wearing the wrong shoes,” Michonne pointed out. Her kitten heels were fashionable, though impractical for physical activity. 

“Should have worn Nikes,” Rick bemoaned. “I can pick you up,” he offered.

Michonne only laughed, watching as the light changed and his fans all but sprinted towards them. 

“Just say hello,” she suggested, leaning up to kiss him on his cheek. The skin was smooth, fresh from a shower and a shave. In fact, Rick looked particularly handsome tonight; his dark blue flannel and stone washed jeans were unusually neat, as though he’d ironed them. Michonne had half a mind to ask him about it, but their alone time came to an abrupt halt. 

Rick’s hand slipped reluctantly from her own as he grinned a bit at the growing crowd, slapping palms and accepting congratulations on the Trojans latest win. Someone pressed a disposable camera at Michonne. Sportingly she agreed, tugging the hem down on her slouchy, floral dress. 

“On three,” she prompted, winding the plastic kodak. 

An answering chant of “Go Trojans!” echoed back at her. She took two more for posterity before happily handing the camera back. Rick nodded and waved, clearly searching for an out. 

“Thanks, guys,” he smacked a few more palms. “I gotta take my girl to dinner, though.” His southern accent twanged, fainter than it had been four years ago when they left Georgia, but still detectable among the LA slang around them. 

They expressed disappointment and even offered an invitation, but eventually let the couple go, chattering among themselves as they moved off. Rick’s fingers twisted around Michonne’s again and he hastened them up the road. 

“Sorry,” he repeated, flushed around the ears.

Michonne leaned her head on his shoulder. “It’s fine,” she assured him. “It happens.” 

“Kind of annoying,” Rick admitted, sighing. 

“Well, stop being so good at baseball, All-Star,” she teased. 

Rick snorted, his eyes darting to the line of restaurants lit up along the street. 

“Where are we going?” Michonne questioned, wondering why Rick was so jittery. She supposed it might be the upcoming rivalry game, but she hadn’t seen him nervous about baseball in years. 

“Somewhere quiet,” he turned to her at last, releasing her hand to sling an arm over her shoulders. “No more interruptions.”

“Is that right?” Michonne asked, impressed. “Might have to leave LA for that,” she joked. With rumors of Rick considering entering the MLB, his star had never been higher. Michonne was proud of him, truth be told, though the Trojan fans around every corner took some getting used to. 

“I’ve got an idea,” he began to look like his old self, an almost cocky smirking rising to his face. 

Michonne shook her head, leaning in closer to him, eager now. He steered her between the restaurants and then out behind, guiding her to the edge of the beach. Michonne chuckled in surprise, but slipped her shoes off, holding them in her free hand as they picked their way through the sand. 

She began to laugh in earnest when she spotted the bewildered delivery man leaning against his bike, staring out into the fading light. 

“What took so long?” he asked Rick when they approached, already handing over a bag ladened with takeout containers. He unceremoniously unloaded a blanket as well, tossing it over Rick’s arm. 

“Ran into some folks,” Rick shrugged apologetically, unfolding bills from his pocket. He juggled his burden for a moment but managed the exchange with some finesse. 

A nice tip saw the delivery man depart with a much better attitude, leaving the young couple alone. In the distance, the Venice Beach Pier was lit up against the setting sun, the colorful lights winking at them. On a warm Friday night, it was bound to be packed. Their much more modest setting was empty. 

Michonne liked it immediately. “Aren’t you romantic,” she complimented, spreading the blanket out. Rick settled beside her, grinning as he opened takeout containers. 

“Wanted you to myself,” he admitted, reaching for her hand again. 

“What’s the occasion for that?” she wondered aloud. 

He blushed. “Hasn’t been much of that lately,” Rick mumbled. “I know the baseball is a lot--”

“It doesn’t bother me, Rick,” she reminded him. 

“And with the draft coming up,” he continued drawing her hand into his lap, “it’s going to be even more soon. And if I get drafted--”

“When,” she corrected, tracing the blunt curve of his nails with her thumb. 

“When,” he chuckled. “There’s going to be even more attention on me. I wanted to give you some attention,” he finished. 

Michonne beamed, scooting closer to him, leaning in to kiss him sweetly. “You always give me attention,” she assured him. 

“Probably because I love you,” he quipped. 

“I know,” she fired right back. “You bought me BBQ.”

“And mac and cheese,” he pointed out, stealing another kiss. 

Michonne began to dig in, reaching into the bag for plates and utensils, salivating at the scent of her favorite meal. “I’m starving,” she remarked. When Rick didn’t answer, and stranger still, didn’t dive immediately for the food, she glanced up at him questioningly. 

“Michonne,” Rick’s voice was oddly raspy, as though his throat was tight. 

“Yeah?” she looked up, on edge now. Rick looked outright nervous, tapping his hand against the waist of his jeans. “Baby, what’s wrong?” she asked. 

“Is this what you want?” he asked suddenly. “Even if we can’t be alone for dinner, and I’m not home for big chunks of the year and--”

“Rick,” Michonne shook her head, amused. “I’ve wanted you since we were teenagers, even before I knew I wanted you.” A memory of them, skinny, idealistic, and naive came back, drawing a smile. “I love you.”

His answering grin warmed her, even as she watched him scramble to his knees. “I love you too,” he assured her, fishing into his pocket. 

“Rick, what are you--” Michonne watched as he knelt in front of her, the question dying on her lips when he pulled out a simple gold band and a solitaire diamond. 

“Michonne,” Rick exhaled shakily. “Will you marry me?”

Michonne’s mind ran blank for a moment, her body seizing up. When she came back to herself, she realized she’d cleared the expanse of the dinner between them and was hanging around his neck, hugging Rick as tightly as she was able. 

“Is that a yes?” he chuckled, voice muffled against her neck. His arms came around her waist, steadying them both. 

“Yes,” she nodded, pulling back just the slightest. 

“Oh good,” Rick let out another breath. “Thank you.”

She laughed, watching as he pushed the ring up her finger. Once it was secure, she pulled him to her again, crushing her mouth to his. 

“Is this why you’ve been nervous all night?” she asked, smiling against his lips. 

“I didn’t think I could surprise you,” he admitted. “Or get you alone.”

She laughed, tugging at his slicked back curls. “And that’s why you dressed up?”

“Yup.” He tightened his arms around her, one of his hands coming around to grip at her thigh beneath her skirt. “I had a whole speech,” he told her. “And then I just forgot everything.”

“I want to hear it,” Michonne prompted, leaning back just the slightest. 

“Yeah?” he smiled at her. He opened his mouth again to speak, but was interrupted. 

“WOOOO, Grimes!” from a few meters off, a group of frat boys had congregated. “Did she say yes?”

Rick groaned, tilting his head forward and into Michonne’s chest. Michonne laughed, shouting back at them. 

“I did!” she told them, listening to their raucous cheers.

“Guys,” Rick found his voice. “Can I get a minute please?”

They left in a cloud of wolf whistles and congratulations. Rick watched them go. 

“Sorry, Chonne,” he repeated. 

Michonne was undaunted. “I think we should go home,” she suggested, her hunger forgotten entirely as a different kind of appetite grew inside of her. 

“You sure?” Rick cocked his brow in surprise. “Don’t let them ruin the night.”

“They didn’t,” she assured him. Michonne leaned into his wandering hands, rolling her hips in his lap. 

Rick took her meaning immediately. “I’ll call a cab,” he told her. He kissed her once quickly before helping her to her feet, using his athleticism to gather their dinner at record speed. He took her hand again, spinning the new ring on her finger. 

“I’ll tell you the rest of my speech when we get back,” he promised, wearing a wicked smirk. 

Michonne smirked back, keeping pace easily. “Can’t wait,” she told him, squeezing his hand again. 


End file.
